Darkened Light
by Moonlitdreamer
Summary: As Harry grows older and Voldemort returns, changes are inevitable. This is the story of Harry Potter's fifth year. Where life is a twisting and confusing process, and not everything is what meets the eye. Angst, humor, and romance abound.
1. Little Hangleton

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A/N: The idea for this story came to me a few nights ago. I like it, so I'm probably going to spend a long time on it. Hope you like it. One review would be nice as well...

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Disclaimer: Practically everything here belongs to the Queen of Books, J. K. Rowling.

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Chapter One

Little Hangleton

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In the little village of Little Hangleton, news traveled fast. It was the type of place where everyone knew everyone and rumors spread like wildfire.

"Did you hear- the Riddle's caretaker was _murdered_!"

"No!"

"Indeed!"

And so it began- the conversations and theories of what really happened. Because of course, everyone in Little Hangleton never believed what the police had to say about the crime. Their details weren't juicy enough. Most people were happy of the old man's death. After all, in their minds he had killed the Riddles. Others were more worried of their safety. Some even fled. One thing was for sure- dark times were settling in Little Hangleton. Even the weather predicted it, as dark storm clouds blew in from the south on an autumn evening. Where was everyone? In the local pub, of course.

"One scotch on the rocks?" said Miss Gallywood, the bartender of the Hanged Man. 

"Over here." an old woman said, bustling over to the bar counter. "So, how are ya Sally?" she asked.

"Fine Dot. I'm afraid I'm moving in a couple of months time though." Sally replied while wiping the counter. 

"Oh? You don't say?" asked Garett, another man sitting on a bar stool. Garett Withersnaper was quite aged himself. "What reason?"

Sally Gallywood looked hesitant. "Well, the murder of Frank. I'm scared out of my wits. I'll be moving to Scotland, staying with a sister of mine..."

"Frank Bryce, eh? The old codger who killed the Riddles?" asked a middle aged man, half drunk. 

"Of course. Everyone knows he did it." Dot replied airily. Sally raised her eyebrows but didn't say anything. 

"Deserved it, I tell you." said Garret. "Did you know," he said, his voice dropping considerably "that he died the same way as the Riddles? Bryce was healthy as an old man can be. No sign of murder either."

Sally shivered as Dot nodded her head. "All the reason why I'm leaving. There's something bad coming to this village, I can almost feel it."

Thunder cracked just as Sally finished her cryptic sentence, adding to the mood of the discussion. Everyone was listening now. The whole bar was ful of whispers and murmurs. 

"You know what I heard?" one woman whispered to the other. "They found a large, dead snake skin near Bryce's body."

"I bet he killed himself. No family, no friends. He just couldn't live with the guilt of having killed the Riddles... mind you, did us good that the Riddles died, but all the same..." Dot muttered. There were nods from most of the townspeople, a few looking hesitant. "Come now Dot," said Gwenyth Mapletoe, a young widow. "Surely Frank didn't kill them. There was no evidence that he did."

The middle aged, half drunk man spoke again. "Bunch o' rubbish, I say. FRANK KILLED THE RIDDLES!" he bellowed, swaying side to side. There was an uproar of approval. 

"Good riddance to Frank Bryce." Garrett yelled, clinking his beer jug with the rest of the bar's.

A rat slipped out of the bar through the commotion. If rats could smirk, this one would have. It scurried off towards the Riddle home.

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Ten Months Later...

Harry Potter lay on his old, worn bed, staring at the ceiling which was now peeling. He took a deep breath as he heard Dudley Dursley's bellowing from below. Nothing really out of the ordinary for Harry, the Boy Who Lived. What was Dudley bellowing about? He wanted a new video game, of course. The nurse from Smeltings, Dudley's school, had told the Dursleys that a diet this summer wouldn't be enough- Dudley needed to exercise and stop watching television. This included playing on a Play Station. Dudley Dursley was now having the umpteenth heated fight of the summer. 

"I WANT THE WILY TERMINATOR 3000 AND I WANT IT NOW!"

The walls of Harry's small and cramped room shuddered. Harry sighed and got up, looking at Hedwig who was now sleeping in her cage. Hedwig was having a rough summer, as Harry had sent many letters to Ron, Hermione, and Sirius during the first week of vacation. He sighed, looking at his calendar, marking off the eighth of July. Only a couple more weeks until Harry's fifteenth birthday. He didn't feel very festive though. More like downright dull and dim. 

The realization of Cedric's death had struck Harry hard in the back. He wouldn't be seeing the Hufflepuff champion their next year at Hogwarts... he'd never be Head Boy, or so most people said. Cedric would never be the captain of the Hufflepuff Qudditch team. And why had this happened?

Because Harry was so bloody fair.

But he knew that fretting over it wasn't going to help him. Since Harry's return to Privet Drive, Ron had sent him many articles from the Daily Prophet, a Wizarding newspaper. Many of them had brought tears of bitterness to Harry's eyes, as the reporters told the story of the Third Task. Though Rita Skeeter had been fired from the Daily Prophet after Hermione released her, the Daily Prophet wasn't short of... colorful stories.

Harry looked up at the window in his bedroom, and was startled to see a dark owl perched upon it. This owl wasn't familiar, he thought as he picked up the letter addressed formally to him. Too formal to be from Sirius. Harry opened the envelope and out of it fell a piece of parchment, which read:

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Dear Mr. Potter,

You have been invited to the funeral of Cedric Odius Diggory, which will be served at Blessed Sacrement for Witches and Wizards on July twelth. Attire will be black dress robes, and reception will be held at the Diggory home after the burial. A Portkey that will be activated for Sunday morning at precisely nine is enclosed. We are hoping you will attend.

Sincerely, 

Mr. and Mrs. Amos Diggory

Harry looked at the cracked marble that lay on his bed, having fallen out of the envelope as well. He held it gently and unfastened the loose floor board, adding the invitation and Portkey inside.   
  
Harry was relieved that the Diggorys were allowing Harry to attend the funeral. He'd received a letter from Ron yesterday telling him that the Weasleys had been invited. Harry had wondered whether or not he would be invited, seeing as some of the Wizarding community didn't believe the story of Voldemort's return, their reactions similar to those of Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. 

He briefly wondered how he was going to get black dress robes. He only had green ones. As Harry thought about this, there were loud thumping noises from the stairs.

BAM!

Harry practically jumped as his bedroom door flew open. Vernon Dursley, his uncle, a purple faced man with a large mustache stepped in, looking livid.

"Get down stairs, you thing. You're going to the shopping center with us." he grunted. 

Harry blinked. "What?" he asked in bewilderment. He'd only been taken to the local mall a couple of times when he was younger.

"We're going there and Mrs. Figg is sick. There's no way in hell you're staying here by yourself." Vernon replied in a strained voice. He turned around and disappeared into the hallway.

Harry scrambled off of his bed and went to the mirror. He'd grown much taller over the summer. His body resembled Ron's now: he was tall and lanky. He quickly attempted to fix his hair, which didn't work, and slipped on his old loafers. 

Harry raced down the stairs and practically flew through the front door with abnormal speed. The Dursleys were already in the car, waiting for him. He opened the rear door and sat down next to Dudley, not showing any sign of happiness that he was finally out of the house. That would've angered Uncle Vernon greatly, which was something Harry wasn't about to do.

Dudley looked around with a smug smirk on his face. Aunt Petunia's face looked relieved, considering that Dudley was finally settling down. Harry gazed out the window, pondering how the words 'Wily' and 'Terminator' could be in the same video game title. 

When they finally reached the Surrey Mall, Dudley complained about the long walk to the entrance. Aunt Petunia wiped the sweat off his face. "Aww, don't worry Dinky-dums, we're almost there." she cooed.

The inside of the mall was almost exactly the way it had been many years ago, polished and prestigious. Dudley ran over to the electronics store, and Harry could swear he felt the floor shaking. On the display of Menda's Electronics was a five foot tall poster of a tiny, little green man holding a gun the size of the poster. On it was the following:

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WILY TERMINATOR 3000

IN STORES JULY 8

FEEL THE WRATH OF WILY!

Harry kept himself from snorting at the poster. Aunt Petunia chased after Dudley frantically, while Uncle Vernon turned to look furiously at Harry.

"You stay here, and if you step one foot out of line," he said in his deep, grunting voice "there will only be three people under my roof." His purple face grew more purple, and he thumped his way towards the shop.

Harry gazed around with a bored expression. It was more entertaining to be at the mall than home, he thought. But that thought was diminished quickly. Number Four Privet Drive would never be his home.

He looked over to the next store, Pets, Pets, and Oh Yes, More Pets! In one display window was a large cage with three Scottish Terrier pups. They were considerably adorable, causing Harry to smile as one of them gazed up at him with large eyes. He moved on over to the other display, where an aquarium with a large, silver and green snake lay. Harry cast his glance towards the Dursleys, who were in an extremely long line talking to whom he remembered as the Polkiss's, whose son Pier was still friends with Dudley.

Harry turned his glance back towards the snake, who was staring at him between the slits of his eyes.

"You are one of them."

Harry almost jumped back, surprised. He hadn't spoke Parseltounge since his second year.

"I'm one of what?" he replied in a hissing language.

"You are one of the two who ssspeak our tongue."

This shocked Harry. How could this simple snake know that there were two Parseltounges in the world? It didn't make much sense. A lady walking by stared at him suspiciously, but didn't say a word as she walked into the shop.

"How- how do you know?" he couldn't express his thoughts into words, but that question pretty much summed it up.

"It's a feeling all sssnakesss have. You two humansss are connected to all sssnakesss- we can feel your presscence." she replied. Harry determined the snake was a she by her voice. 

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"

Harry really did jump back this time. An old man with grizzly gray hair and black beady eyes stared at him, his face red with anger.

"Erm- nothing sir." he lied. The man scrunched up his face threateningly.

"Is there a problem here?"

Harry mentally groaned as he heard Vernon's voice behind him. He was really in deep now.

"That ruddy boy was making noises at my snake- he was scaring her!" Mr. Inorman exclaimed, his name gleaming off a silver nametag on his blue vest. 

"I'm terribly sorry Mr... Inorman, our nephew you see, isn't quite all here..." Vernon trailed off, pointing at the side of his head. Inorman set wary eyes at Harry again.

"Yes, well you get your ruddy nephew out of here or I _will_ call security." he muttered, walking back into his store. Vernon grabbed Harry fiercely by the upper arm and dragged him to the exit. He could hear Dudley snickering behind him and Aunt Petunia tutting.

They walked through the vast parking lot, and Harry could practically feel the bruises forming on his arm by Vernon's tight grip. 

When they reached Vernon's company car, a BMW of course, a man was leaning on the side, his eyes staring at the forest towards the end of the lot. He had pepper hair, sharp blue eyes, and looked no older than fifty. His clothes were casual, a pair of navy blue trousers, a collared shirt and navy blue vest. He took a long drag of his cigarette and looked at the bewildered Durselys.

"What do you think your doing? Who are you?" Vernon growled. The man blinked, and reached into his pocket, holding out an I.D.

"Private Investigator. Is there a Harry James Potter amongst you?" while saying this, the man set his eyes on Harry as though he knew that Harry was already there. Vernon knocked him roughly towards the mysterious man.

"Yes, I'm Harry." Harry said while rubbing his arm. The man's eyes lit up.

"Well Mr. Potter, you're coming with me for a little while. You don't mind, I assume?" he said, smirking slightly at Vernon.

"Keep him for all I care." he grunted, getting into the car with his wife and son. Harry and the Investigator watched them silently drive away. The man took another drag of his cigarette and ground it into the asphalt. He began walking away, and Harry assumed he was to follow him.

This was when he noticed something that practically made his heart stop.

There was something sticking out of his pocket. Something that Harry would spot anywhere.

A wand.

  
He gulped. This man could be a Death Eater for all Harry knew. Before he could think of anything else, the man stopped and turned around. They'd reached the edge of the forest.

"Nice to meet you again Potter." he said slowly, a smile creeping onto his face. 

" Who are you? You're not a Private Investigator." Harry said, the words spilling out. He'd never met this man in his life. He pointed at the wand. "You're- you're a wizard."

"Nice evaluation." he stuck out his hand. "Mundungus Fletcher, at your service."


	2. Behind Blue Eyes

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Disclaimer: Nothing here except Cory Bones is mine. All of this belongs to J. K. Rowling.

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Author's Note: This chapter mainly focuses on Mundungus Fletcher. In fact, the whole chapter is about him. Also- this is the sloppy copy of Chapter Two, if you'd rather read the edited one, it should be up on Schnoogle in a few days. Thanks to the people who reviewed.

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Chapter Two

Behind Blue Eyes

Harry stared at Mundungus Fletcher for a few moments. His eyes were startling, as a grey line outlined his pupils, making them look like tunnels. Harry knew that name rang a bell, but he couldn't exactly remember where he had heard it before. A book, perhaps? He doubted that. 

"My hand's getting tired here, Potter," Mundungus said. "Are you still alive there?"

As Harry slowly shook the odd man's hand, he remembered where he had heard that name before.

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"...You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher- the old crowd."

Dear Harry,

..... just notified Mundungus Fletcher....

Sirius

"I know who you are now!" Harry exclaimed. Mundungus raised an eyebrow.

"Fast one, aren't you?" he said while reaching into his pocket once again. "Alright, we have exactly one minute,"

"One minute? For what?" Harry asked as Mundungus pulled out a worn business card.

"Portkey." he simply replied. Harry nodded and held onto the card.

"Where are we going?"

"Diagon Alley. Dumbledore told you'd need new dress robes," he replied. 

"So thats why he sent you," Harry replied, his voice crestfallen. Now he would really have to spend the rest of the summer with the Dursleys.

"Oh yes, Dumbledore sent one of his highest commanding soldiers to accompany Harry Potter robes shopping. Don't be daft. You'll be speding the week with me," Mundungus replied sarcastically. "Hold on."

"Highest commanding-" But Harry was cut off as a familiar tugging sensation sweeped upon him. He closed his eyes, feeling slightly naseau.

Once he opened them again, he was in a familiar dim lighted pub, the Leaky Cauldron. Doorway to Diagon Alley, in a sense. Tom, the bartender, looked up at Harry and Mundungus as the bar silenced. All eyes were on the two of them. Harry looked at his worn sneakers, which were starting to develop holes at the toes. Mundungus put a firm arm around him and led him behind the bar, to the brick wall that would lead them to Diagon Alley. Harry could almost hear the pub bursting with murmurs and whispers.

"Thats society for you, Harry," Mundungus said while tapping the bricks with his dark wand. "Can't resist gossip, they can't. Come along."

He nodded, though he didn't have much of a choice as the older man was steering him along the cobblestone street. It was a hot and humid day, the sun shining brightly from above. The beautiful day brought many shoppers. Still looking at his shoes, Harry could feel the stares of the passerbys, and they burned into him. He bit his lip as Mundungus' grip tightened on his shoulder.

The dark haired wizard led Harry into Madam Malkins silently. The store was empty except for Madam Malkin herself, who was sitting on a stool, looking quite bored. Her eyes lit up as she saw Harry. 

"Hullo," she said cheerfully. "How may I help you?"

"Er- I'm here to get a black dress robe." Harry replied. Mundungus nodded and went outside, where Harry could see him through the window lighting another cigarette, causing him to frown.

"Well I'll be," Madam Malkin remarked as she pulled the simple black robes over Harry's head. "If it isn't Mundungus Fletcher."

He raised his eyebrow. "You know him then?"

"Well, he was a bit famous in his time dear," she said, taking out her wand and shortening the robe, "terrific Auror, and a great writer, I must say. Alright, all done."

Once Mundungus came back in and Madam Malkin brought the robes to the register, Harry remembered that he didn't have any money on him.

"That will be thirteen Galleons." she said. Mundungus reached into his pocket and handed her a bunch of golden Galleons.

"Don't worry," he said as Harry widened his eyes, "that money is from your Gringotts account. Dumbledore withdrew the money for me."

He nodded as they left the shop, the door's bells jingling. Mundungus walked swiftly through the crowds in Diagon Alley, Harry having a hard time to keep up. "We'll be Flooing to my home from the Leaky Cauldron," he muttered as they made their way back to the dim pub.

Harry ignored the stares this time, but he couldn't keep from hearing the whispers that shattered the silence of the Leaky Cauldron.

"It's _him_!" one witch whispered shrilly to the other. "I told you he came in here earlier!"

Mundungus glared at the pub before turning to Harry. "You'll be going first," he murmured as he grabbed some dirt from the pot that sat on the mantlepiece of the large fireplace. "Say Garlyus loud and clear."

Harry nodded as the flames turned green. He quickly stepped into them, shutting his eyes tightly. "Garlyus!"

He chocked as his mouth filled with ash, and immediately snapped his mouth shut. His stomach churned unpleasently as Harry whirled around through the Floo network.

Just as he thought he might throw up his measley lunch of bread and cheese, Harry tumbled out of the network, onto the carpeted floor of a small living room.

He got up slowly, wiping his glasses with the end of his green sweater, given to him by Molly Weasley the year before. Luckily when he wore it at the Dursleys they didn't take enough time to notice that there was a dragon on it.

Harry observed the room he was in. It was cluttered and messy, dimly lit by two candles suspending in thin air. Parchments were stacked high on an old, weathered blue armchair. The walls were a dark shade of blue as well, covered with various photos of unfamiliar people, intricate clocks, a coffee stain here and there. The floor, which was made of a dark shade of grey carpet, was covered with various books, parchments, and quills. The couch, which clashed with the living room being a bright shade of putrid green, was in the same state of disorginization.

Mundungus crashed into the living room at that moment. He got up and dusted himself off, scanning the room for Harry. "Ah, there you are," He looked out the window. "Seem like we're going to have a noisy night, eh?" he commented as thunder cracked. Even though it was only five in the afternoon, the storm clouds outside made the illusion of night.

"I guess so sir, but I was wondering, all my belongings are at the-" Harry said, but was cut off by Mundungus. "Yes, I know, prior to our meeting at the parking lot I picked up your trunk and owl from the Dursleys'," he said, reaching into his pocket. "Ah yes, here they are."

Mundungus pulled out a tiny trunk and a minature bird cage, tapping them with his wand. Back to her normal size, Hedwig looked extremely displeased and shaken. She hooted furiously at him, causing Harry to snort a bit.

"Mind if I let her outside?" he asked. 

"Do it if it'll make her shut up!" Mundungus exclaimed, covering his ears as Hedwig's hoots loudened. Harry grinned and opened the window after opening the door to her cage. She flew off hautingly. He looked up at the sky with a worried expression.

"Do you think it's alright to let her out in this weather?" Harry asked. Mundungus waved his hand in disconcern as he began walking into another room.

"She'll be fine, post owls know how to take care of themselves," he said swiftly. "Come, I'll make some tea."

Harry nodded and followed after him, into a small kithcen. Plates were stacked sky high in the sink, and the whole room seemed to be made of wood. A table with two chairs, one of them with a leg that was too short, sat in the middle of the kitchen. Mundungus waved his wand at the plates, and they began washing themselves. "I keep on forgetting to wash those," he told Harry. "I've never been much of a house keeper."

Harry sat down akwardly in the chair with the shortened leg. He put his chin in his hands while watching Mundungus make tea magically. He turned his head towards the window, watching the tree outside sway with the fierce wind. Rain pelted the window as the storm began, lightening filling the skies. 

"Earth to Harry!" He swiveled around and saw Mundungus smirking slightly with to tea cups in his hands. "Awfully wuiet, you are," he said as he took a sip of his tea, sitting down in the other chair.

"Well, I don't mean to be rude, but I don't know much about you." Harry replied hesitantly. Mundungus smiled wryly.

"Alright then, since there's not much else to do, I'll tell you my boring biography," he said, his blue eyes smiling as well. 

"I was born June fifteenth, nineteen fourty eight, in London. I came from an old dark family, my mother and father being in Grindewald's Inner Circle. Being so respectable, they were never put into Azkaban. I was an only child, spoiled rotten by my parents. I never loved my father. Always thought he was a bastard, yet I idolized him. I remember the summer before my first year at Hogwarts as if it were yesterday- I was a nervous wreck. What if I didn't get into Slytherin? What is, horror of horrors, I got into Hufflepuff? My father would think I was a failure.

"So September first comes, and I'm so nervous I puked on Gerby, one of our houselves," he said, causing Harry to scrunch up his face in mild disgust and amusement. "Father called me a coward and a fool, pushing me roughly through the barrier of Platform 9 and 3/4. Nearly caused me to vomit again. 

"So I waited in line to be sorted, and I remember looking up to Albus Dumbledore for the first time- of course, I had been raised to hate him as he killed my parent's master. The old Transfiguration teacher gave me a reassuring smile and a wink. I shrugged it off, but it really did calm my nerves. I was sorted after Arabella Figg, Gryffindor of course. Figgs and Fletchers were old rivals. That darned Sorting Hat stayed on me for nearly fifteen minutes. Didn't know where to put me. Told me I was cunning enough to make Slytherin proud, yet I had the heart of a Gryffindor. I begged it to put me into Slytherin, but what did that hat do? Put me in Gryffindor.

"I had bever been more miserable in my life Harry. My father never responded to my letter telling him that I'd been put in Gryffindor. He never wrote to me while I was at Hogwarts. I had hardly any friends. The Slytherins thought that I was a traitor, while most Gryffindors thought I was nothing more than pond scum.I made a few Ravenclaw friends, but that was about it. I was tied at the top of my class with Arthur Weasley, who I detested at the time. We were both in the same year and house, along with George Finnigan, Ben Longbottom, Molly Finkle, Jenny Abbot, and Arabella of course. My father always used to mock me during the summer holidays. 'You're so stupid you can't even compare to a Weasley!'. 

Then, one day in sixth year, Arthur and I got into a tremendous argument over Muggles. I thought they were the filthiest thing on the planet, while he adored them. We both ended up in the Hospital Wing. Been friends since. Ahh, we always got on each others nerve. I remember a couple of years ago when I was helping Arthur on a raid he got me so mad I cursed him from behind!" Mundungus said with a chuckle. "I fell in love with Arabella Figg in my seventh year. Competely insane, I tell you. We kept our relationship secret. After Hogwarts I got a job as an Auror," Mundungus took a long breath, causing Harry to grin. "My father didn't know, of course. I don't really think he would've cared if I was dead or alive," he said bitterly, his eyes darkening.

"I asked Arabella to marry me a year later. I told my father at his fiftieth birthday party. I told him everything- how I was an Auror, I was marrying Arabella Figg, and I was friends with a Weasley," Mundungus said as he drained the rest of his tea, "I don't think I had ever seen my father so mad. I embarressed him in front of all his Dark sympathizer friends and family. We started yelling and screaming at each other, I told him how much I hated him and everyone there, and he told me never to step foot in that house again. Told me I was nothing but a worthless piece of, well, I won't tell you or Sirius'll have my head.

"Aurors then didn't have much to do since the wizarding world was mostly at peace. Our wages went down, so I got a tutoring job for two nine year olds. James Potter and Sirius Black."

Harry's jaw dropped. "You knew _my father_?" he asked in disbelieve. Mundungus waved his wand at his tea cup which went soaring into the sink. 

"Indeed I did. Great boy, he was. Very clever and wise. I was surprised he didn't make it into Ravenclaw. Sirius- well, thats a whole different story by itself. But I'll tell you this Harry," he said, leaning on the back two legs of his chair, "James would be so proud if he could see you now- I kept in touch with his family over the years as Arabella was distantly related to them. Great people.

"When James and Sirius went to Hogwarts, my job as an Auror was starting to pick up it's pace. There was a new dark wizard in town, though most Aurors didn't think much of it. Went by the name of Lord... V-v-voldemort," Mundungus said slowly, wincing. "Are jobs got harder and harder through the years. I was almost never home, and when I was, Arabella and I constantly fought.

"The darkest days were during the late seventies. The Dark Lord had risen to his climax, and no one could feel safe, not even Albus Dumbledore. The things I saw as an Auror... things that no man should ever experience. So many were killed fighting against the dark side. Crouch began to let us kill back though, to the point that we killed as many people every day as the Death Eaters did.

"Then, one August evening in Hogsmeade, my fellow Auror Cory Bones and I were on duty to surpervise the village's outskirts. We sat on large rock at the edge of a small forest. He was a young lad, about twenty years old. We heard a noises- whispering from the forest. I told him to stay wuiet as I slowly crept near the trees. Then, at that moment, ten Death Eaters jumped out, their wands pointed at us.We dueled them fiercly, killing three of them, Rosier and Wilkes, and another man I had never met. We'd been after Rosier and Wilkes for awhile," Mundungus continued. Harry nodded. His story reminded him of what Sirius had told him last year of Snape's friends.

"Then... then, there was a shot of green light, heading towards Cory. He shouted something to me before he died, but I never heard it as the Death Curse causes a roaring sound that can burst your ear drums. I Stupified the Death Eater who had killed Cory, leaving one left...

"... the man pulled off his mask. You know the feeling that you know something's going to happen before it does? Well, that feeling filled my veins as my father stood there, his eyes booring through with unearthly coldness... I felt like I'd entered Azkaban..." Mundungus said, his hands trembling. 

"You don't have to continue if you don't want to," Harry suggested. Mundungus shook his head.

"No, I want to tell you. So he stood there, his wand at his side, him wearing black robes, while I was wearing robes of white. 'So we meet again Mundy,' he said. Mundy was my old nickname. Father used to use it when I was young. 'Never looked good in white, you didn't." he sneered. I wanted to break his neck for making my life miserable... I wanted to kill him for all the words that cut through me like knifes... I lunged at him. We fought for a few minutes, until I disarmed him. 

"He lay on the grass, his lips bloody with a black eye. 'So this is it Mundy? You're going to kill me?' my father asked me softly, his words quivering. He looked like such a coward I could've gagged. 'Kill me Mundungus, but remember. You're a Fletcher. You're a dark wizard, deep down. Even if you cover it up with your little white lies..' he said, smirking at his own pun. 'You're just as bad as I am, do you know that? Just as bad as I am. We're both murderers.' I screamed out in fury and killed him. His face stayed with a permanent smirk. I left them there, and Apparated with Cory's corpse to the Ministry. Ministry officials went there a few minutes later, collecting all of the Death Eaters.

"Thats when I hit rock bottom. I resigned from my Auror position. I couldn't take it anymore. Arabella filed a divorce against me. She left me, retrieving her maiden name as all female witches do. My mother died a couple of months later. I lived in a small, tiny apartment as Arabella had taken our house. I had no money, no wife, nothing.. I got a job at the Daily Prophet or else I would've starved. I was fired from that job though, after writing a very contreversial piece on Barty Crouch.

"A month before Voldemort's downfall, Dumbledore came to me with a proposition. He asked me to join the Order, but it's not my place to tell you about that. So, do you rather have chicken or turkey for dinner?"

Harry stared at him with wide eyes.

"No wonder your name's Potter, your eyes look like bloody plates. Now what'll it be, chicken or turkey?"

"Chicken, I guess," Harry replied. He was astonished. This man had just old him the most depressing life story he had ever heard and was now talking about _dinner_?

They ate in near silence, a few remarks made on Qudditch. Mundungus seemed to like the Falmouth Falcons, while Harry preffered the Chudley Cannons, being influenced by Ron. After dinner was over, Mundungus got up and walked out of the kitchen. "Come, I'll show you where you'll be sleeping."

He and Harry carried his trunk upstairs. There were three doors, one he gueesed was a bathroom, the other two bedrooms. Mundungus opened the door to the left, revealing a room that was slightly messy, a few instrument cases scattered around. There was a hastily made bed in the center, and the room, along with the rest of the house, had the uncanny scent of dust. Mundungus set his trunk down and eyed the instrument cases.

"Yes, I forgot to tell you- I tutored your father and Sirius in music. Brilliant violinst, I must say," he explained. He lowered his voice. "Sirius will hex me if he knew that I told you, but he played the flute." Harry snorted, but was cut off by a loud crash. The window at the far right exploded.


	3. Concerning Wizards

****

Chapter Three

Concerning Wizards

"_STUPEFY!_"

There was a shriek and a flash of red, and then the dust dissolved, revealing a rather comical scene in front of Harry. A short, tiny, balding man with pure white hair and kind hazel eyes, sat near the now destroyed window, the floor scattered with glass. He wore violet robes with bright yellow dancing stars on them. His hair was singed at the side where the spell that Mundungus had thrown at him passed by. Mundungus sat on the bed his hands shaking with fury as he and knocked over a tiny broomstick and top hat that Harry assumed belonged to the small stranger and rubbed his temples. 

"Dedalus I'm going to KILL YOU!"

Harry grinned and looked at the man that he now recognized. "You're Dedalus Diggle! I met you in Diagon Alley!"

Dedalus grinned broadly. "He remembers me! Look at that Mundungus, the lad remembers me. Such an honour to meet you again, Mr. Potter," he said, giving Harry a low bow. 

"Tell me why you're here or I won't restrict myself to strangling you. How many times have I told you not to come in through the windows? Stupid Hufflepuffs, don't even know how to enter a house properly..." Mundungus ranted on. Harry stifled a laugh as he looked at the two older men. Dedalus looked rather oblivious to the insults being launched his way, while Mundungus' ears were turning an odd shade of red. 

"Well, I was just flying home from the Ministry, as I decided it'd be nice to have a relaxing fly. The weather picked up, and I decided to stop here. I hope you don't mind me staying the night?" Dedalus said, winking at Harry as Mundungus looked a less bit angry.

"Do tell me why you can't Apparate, Dedalus," Mundungus said, a smirk curling at his lips.

"Errr... well..." Then Dedalus muttered something that Harry couldn't have understood if his life depended on it.

"Speak up!" Mundungus insisted, his smirk was now full fledged.

Dedalus sighed. "The Ministry took my Apparation licence for two weeks." he mumbled. 

Mundungus roared with laughter. Harry was confused and looked from the tiny little wizard to Fletcher who was doubled over and clutching his sides. 

"Again?!" Mundungus croaked in between laughs. Dedalus picked up his broom and dusted it off, which on the handle said Mini Me 2000 in gold, grumbling under his breath.

Mundungus finally stopped laughing and after wiping the tears from his eyes, he spoke again. "So, what happened this time, Dedalus?" 

"Erm, excuse me, but could someone explain to me why this is so funny?" Harry asked. 

Dedalus looked relieved.

"I will Harry, just as soon as I hear this," Mundungus said. 

Dedalus sighed. "I splinched myself in the middle of a Muggle street when I really meant to go to Hogsmeade," he said, rubbing his chin. "I really have no idea how it happened though..." Mundungus began to laugh again, but stopped after Dedalus whacked him with his broom on the knees. Harry then began to laugh as well.

"All right, I'll explain Harry. You see, ever since Dedalus and I graduated from Hogwarts, Dedalus was always horrible at Apparating. I think he must've bribed the Ministry to ever give him his liscense," Mundungus said with a chuckle. "I knew Dedalus since he was a friend of Bella's. We became chess partners. Anyways, I don't think a year went by when he didn't get his licence revoked at least three times. Always different reasons - I remember once he Apparated himself onto a Muggle woman's head!" he exclaimed with another bout of laughter. Harry snorted as well, while Dedalus looked very indignant.

"It wasn't my fault that the lady was at the wrong place at the wrong time..." he muttered. Mundungus shook his head. "Dedalus, you were twenty miles away from your destination! I'm surprised the Ministry hasn't taken away your license permanently."

Mundungus surveyed the mess, taking his wand and casting a few repairment charms. The room was as good as new- you'd never guess that the tiny wizard had crashed through the window minutes before. 

Dedalus looked around slowly. An uneasy silence fell upon the room. Harry stared at Dedalus. Dedalus stared at Mundungus. Mundungus stared at the door.

"So, up for a game of chess? I still need to beat you, and I've been doing some practicing." Dedalus stated brightly, breaking the tension. 

Mundungus grinned maliciously. "You're on Diggle," he said with pride. "Five galleons says I beat you," he sneered, going out into the hallway. 

"Let's make it three Galleons, eh? I'm a bit short on the money," Dedalus said as he followed a chuckling Mundungus, a curious Harry following.

****

"Check."

Harry held his chin in his hand, gazing lazily at the two men playing the longest round of Wizard's Chess he'd ever seen, even after Ron played against Terry Boot. It was now ten in the evening. Dedalus' forehead was creased with intense concentration as Mundungus shot another 'Check' at him. Mundungus looked as cool as could be, sitting back into his chair, a light smirk playing at his lip as he watched his opponent's move. Harry cringed slightly, despite his sleepiness. Dedalus had fallen right into Mundungus' trap.

Mundungus slowly smiled like a cat who had caught a rat. "Queen to D-10"

"Checkmate," he declared as his piece moved to the position, his smile full fledged. "You officially owe me three Galleons, Diggle."

Dedalus gaped at the chessboard. "What?! How?"

"Well it's quite simple Dedalus, you stink at Wizard's Chess."

Harry laughed and stood up, stretching. "Well, I'm going to bed. Good night Mundungus, Dedalus." he announced.

"'Night Harry," Dedalus mumbled, scanning the chess board intensely.

"Sleep well Harry." Mundungus said, slapping his back. Harry grinned and went up the stairs.

The storm outside raged on as Harry slid into the blankets of the stiff bed. Just as he began to ease into sleep, a raindrop fell onto his forehead. Great, he thought. A leak. He sighed loudly and rolled over, wondering if he'd get any sleep that night. 

****

"You rotten, filthy tomato!" a voice growled in the kitchen.

Harry had just gotten out of the shower as he walked into the kitchen. It was five in the afternoon, a day after he was taken from the Dursleys. 

"C'mere you bastard!" 

Harry peaked in. "Dedalus? I hope your not talking to Mundungus..." he said worriedly. 

Dedalus shook his head, waving a large knife. "The little thing ran away, scared, I think. I've got a pretty big knife here," he told Harry.

"That doesn't exactly explain what you're doing," Mundungus said from behind. Harry turned around and let the older man pass.

"I'm making dinner," Dedalus said stubbornly. 

"You're actually doing it the Muggle way?" Mundungus asked, his nose wrinkling.

"Well, I was thinking," the tiny man replied,"you, know, that it would be nice."

"We're going to the Three Broomsticks anyway." 

"What? You mean I've been dealing with the tomato from Hell for nothing?" Dedalus squeaked incredously. He picked up the tomato. "This damn thing has been giving me trouble all afternoon," he gave it a threatening look. "If you don't behave I'll make catsup out of you!"

Harry's laugh escaped. Mundungus rolled his eyes. "Your ability to insult a vegetable is the stupidist thing I have ever witnessed Dedalus."

"It's not even a vegetable! It's false advertising, the tomato is clearly trying to be something it's not!"

"Perhaps you are taking this a bit too personally?" Mundungus asked as he grabbed a celery stick from the unfinished salad on the counter. 

"This tomato hates me, and I hate it. I will never cease until evilry of this tomato has been wiped out."

"You're definitely taking this too personally." Harry said in between laughs.

Dedalus gave the tomato a spiteful look as Mundungus slipped something into his hand. If Harry had blinked he wouldn't even had noticed. Dedalus looked at Mundungus and gave him the tomato. 

"Watch that one, it might escape again," Dedalus said as he started walking out of the room. "Just have to find my shoes..."

Mundungus tossed the tomato into the garbage, chuckling. "He's definitely a nut case."

Harry grinned, but still wondered what he had given to Dedalus. But before he could ponder that anymore, the short man came back in, giving Mundungus a look that Harry couldn't read. 

"Come on, we'll have to Floo, obviously," Mundungus said, smirking at Dedalus. Dedalus, on the other hand, just stuck his tongue out at the taller wizard, causing Harry to laugh again.

"You two are unbelievable," he said. 

Mundungus walked over to the mantle piece and grabbed the flowerpot that was on it.

"All right Harry, you can go first," he said politely, tossing some Floo Powder into the fire.

Harry bit his lip and walked hesitantly towards the green flames.

"Just say 'The Three Broomsticks'" Dedalus said reassuringly. Harry nodded.

"The Three Broomsticks!"

Harry coughed, shutting his eyes tightly as the whirlwind began. He was happy he hadn't eaten anything since lunchtime. Before he knew it, he was sprawled on the wooden floor of the Three Broomsticks. It was quite crowded, lively and full of laughter and conversation. He got up shakily, dusting off his clothes and wiping his glasses. 

"Harry!"

Just as Harry heard Dedalus crash onto the floor behind him, he spotted a tall man with golden brown hair and amber eyes. A man he hadn't seen in a very long time.

"Professor Lupin!" Harry exclaimed, running towards the werewolf. He looked better than before- happier, in a sense. His robes looked new, and his skin wasn't as sallow and pale as it used to be. 

Lupin embraced Harry warmly, smiling ear to ear, his eyes bright with what Harry thought were tears. "Harry, you look more like your father everyday," he said, surveying the young wizard.

Mundungus appeared then with Dedalus, both greeting the ex-professor. 

"Pleased to see you so well, Remus." Dedalus squeaked. Mundungus gave Lupin a bear hug, whispering something into his ear. The man nodded in response.

"Come on, I'll take you to our table," Lupin said, wrapping his arm around Harry's thin shoulders. A few people had already spotted the Boy Who Lived, but only a couple of them actually pointed or stared. Harry had an odd feeling about this. Had Mundungus planned for them to meet Professor Lupin? If so, why didn't he just tell Harry? It wasn't like he didn't know who Lupin was.

"So, how has your summer been so far? Not too bad, I hope?" Lupin asked as he steered Harry to a corner of the pub, Mundungus and Dedalus at their heels.

"The usual, Professor Lupin. Just a bunch of torment from the Dursleys," he replied grimly.

"Please Harry, call me Remus. I'm no longer your professor," he said nonchalantly.

They finally reached their table. Harry gasped when he saw the man that was sitting in one of the chairs.

He looked exactly like Remus. His twin brother, Harry guessed. Why hadn't Remus told him before that he had a brother, Harry wondered. The man grinned widely, jumping up.

"Harry!" he shouted, wrapping Harry into a very tight embrace. Harry's eyes widened to the size of Dedalus' evil tomato. What in the world...?

"Can't...breathe," Harry wheazed. Remus' twin immediatly let him go, gazing at him with a worried smile. 

"I'd like to introduce you to my twin brother Romulus, Harry," Remus said, giving Romulus a stern look. 

"Erm, right, sorry, I get a bit over enthusiastic when I meet new people," he said, shrugging. The resemblance between the two was incredible. Yes, they were twins, but still, it was a bit creepy. Harry glanced at the strange man who was staring right back at him with that grin on his face. Harry smiled feebly.

"Well, are we going to sit down, or shall we dance?" Mundungus said with a chuckle as he took his seat. Madam Rosmerta quickly came up to their table with another woman behind her.

"Good evening boys, this is my sister, Madam Sally, she'll be serving you tonight." Madam Rosmerta said rapidly without giving them a second glance, pacing towards the next table.

"So, what would you like to drink?" she asked them with a warm smile. Her eyes fell upon Remus and Romulus.

"Excuse me, but are one of you Remus Lupin?"

Remus looked up from his menu. "That would be me," he said, flashing her a smile.

"Remus Lupin, I haven't seen you since my second year! Remember me, Sally Gallywood?"

Remus' forehead crinkled as he looked like he was trying to remember that name. His eyes suddenly lit up. "Yes, I remember you, you were a first year Gryffindor when I was in my fifth year!" he said. 

Madam Sally looked at Romulus, her eyebrows narrowing. "Strange, I don't remember you having a twin.."

"Ohhh... erm, this is my brother Romulus... he's a Squib, you see," Remus said, lowering his voice. 

Romulus' mouth dropped incredulously, but he quickly returned to his cheery self, still staring at Remus with a mean glare.

"Oh, I'm sorry dear. Always happens to the best of us," she said, and returned to taking their orders.

"So, did you read the Daily Prophet?" Dedalus asked. "I was astonished that Fudge disagreed to helping the Germans!"

"Well, we've always been allies with France," Mundungus remarked.

Harry zoned out at that point of the conversation. He wasn't very interested in the politics of the Wizarding World. A few minutes later their dinners arrived, as Remus and Mundungus were in a full fledged debate on flying carpets. If a Muggle had joined the conversation at that moment, he would've thought they were all nutters.

Harry watched as Remus tapped his watch at Romulus so discretely that Harry almost didn't see it. Romulus took out a small flask from his pocket and downed the contents, making up an excuse about drinking water after drinking beer, which caused the table to laugh. Harry's eyebrows narrowed. Something wasn't right here.

As the night went on, it was clear that Romulus was, well, completely drunk. He'd only had one beer, yet he was acting like he'd consumed twenty.

"So, I tells the lad 'go buy your own shoes!'" Romulus roared with laughter at his not-so-funny joke. The rest of the table looked like they were trying to decipher the punch line.

"Well, anyways, I went down to London-" 

"I have a lovely bunch of coconuts, deedly dee dee!" Romulus sang loudly, interrupting Remus.

"Romulus...?" Dedalus waved his hand in front of the golden haired man.

"I wants to dance. Do YOU wanna dance?" Romulus asked Remus, his eyes off focus.

"Umm, no thank you Romulus," he replied, giving his twin a confused glance.

"Party pooper," Romulus spat, knocking over Dedalus' tequila.

"Hey!" Dedalus protested, frowning at his lost drink.

"One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, FLOOR!" Romulus exclaimed in a fit of giggles.

"I don't think that beer mixed well with the potion..." Mundungus pointed out. "We better get him out of here, take him to my place. You three take him to the fireplace, I'll take care of the bill," he said, gesturing to Harry, Remus, and Dedalus.

What potion? Harry thought as he got up.

Harry and Remus quickly led a tripping and stumbling Romulus towards the entrance of the Three Broomsticks where the fireplace was, Dedalus jogging behind them.

"Goodbye darling! I'll never forget ya'!" Romulus yelled to Madam Sally, who blushed and giggled as she served drinks to a table of old witches.

"How exactly are we going to Floo him like this?" Harry asked, eyeing Romulus who was now winking and blowing kisses at the table of flustered elderly witches.

Mundungus, who had made his way toward them after paying the bill gave a simple reply. 

"It can be easily done. Dedalus, you'll Floo with him since you're the smallest." 

"Oh right, it's always the tiny one who has to do the dirty work," he grumbled as he heaved a stunned Romulus into the green flames with him. "The Garlyus!"

Remus went next, Harry launching himself into the network after him. When he crashed into the living room floor of Mundungus' home, Remus, Dedalus, and a sober Romulus were sitting on the putrid green couch.

"I put a Sobering Charm on him," Remus explained as Mundungus gracefully landed into the living room from the fireplace.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Romulus groaned, running to the bathroom. Remus sighed and jogged after him.

"Unfortunately, he'll have a bad hangover," Dedalus said.

"We should have remembered the number one rule when taking the Polyjuice Potion," Mundungus said as he lit up a fag. "Never mix it with alcohol."

"Polyjuice Potion? What?!" Harry asked, his face contouring into full fledged suspicion. "Who is Romulus, exactly? It's obvious he's not Remus' twin." 

Mundungus sat on the sofa, taking a long drag of his cigarette and closing his eyes at the bliss. "You'll see when the potion wears off Harry. I'm sure you'll be happy when you see who it is."

Dedalus hopped off the couch and toddled to the kitchen. "I'll make some tea."

Harry sighed heavily in frustration as Remus and Romulus- or whoever the man was- came back from the bathroom.

"Harry, I guess I should tell you-"

"It's all right Remus, I already told him that Romulus isn't Romulus." Mundungus interrupted as Dedalus came in with a tray of tea floating behind him. Romulus leaned on the wall, his skin a bit pale.

"I'm going to have a migraine all night," he said, rubbing his temples.

Harry observed as the man's hair color started changing, the length as well. His body began contouring, his skin darkening.

When the transformation was complete, Harry gasped.

"Sirius!"


End file.
